Forever…Again

by Maureen Child

  Then it ended.

  He pulled his head back and released her all at once, and she staggered drunkenly backward a step or two before finding her balance again. Lifting one hand, she pushed her hair away from her face and then dusted her fingertips across her still-throbbing lips. Staring up at him, she struggled for air and fought the urge to crawl right back into his arms and ask for more.

  “Can’t do this,” he muttered thickly. Shaking his head, he stared at her. A hunger so deep and raw it made her ache, shone in his eyes. “Can’t.”

  He tore his gaze from hers and stalked from the room, leaving her where she stood.

  Lily didn’t turn to watch him leave.

  She stood alone, silent and shell-shocked in an office that suddenly felt too empty.

  Four days later Ron pulled his car into the clinic parking lot and turned off the engine. He didn’t get out. Didn’t even move.

  He’d been avoiding this place as though they’d hung a plague sign out front. But staying away from Lily hadn’t done a thing for him. Every time he closed his eyes he saw her. In his dreams he tasted her. In his weakest moments he swore he could detect her scent wafting around his empty condo.

  She was surrounding him, and he wasn’t at all sure what to do about it. He couldn’t avoid her forever. She worked for Mari. She’d become a part of Binghamton. They would be running into each other at business, at parties. If he kept ducking her, people would begin to wonder why and that would only feed the gossip mill.

  But if he went back in there and felt the same tug and pull toward her, there’d be a different kind of gossip altogether. And that he wasn’t prepared for.

  People in this town remembered Violet.

  They remembered Vi and him as a couple.

  As two halves of a whole.

  If he’d had a soul mate once—could he settle for less? Should he try to find it again? No. That would be disloyal to Vi along with being damned selfish. He’d had happiness. And that kind of love didn’t get handed out more than once in a lifetime.

  Right?

  He released his tight grip on the steering wheel and scrubbed both hands across his face. Then he smoothed his beard, looked into the rearview mirror and met his own gaze squarely. “Don’t be an ass. It’s not love you’re feeling. It’s something a hell of a lot simpler.”

  His reflected image didn’t look happy about that, but then why would it? Lowering to admit that a man his age could simply be in the grip of hormones, but there it was. He wanted Lily Cunningham, badly.

  And now that he’d had a taste of her, that need was stronger than it had been before.

  Grumbling to himself, he flung the car door open and stepped out into the afternoon sunlight. A breeze ruffled his hair, and he heard the sounds of kids playing baseball. The crack of a bat sounded loudly, and shrieks and jeers from the children were almost like music. Ron reached back into the car to pull out his suit jacket. Shrugging into it, he slammed the car door shut and headed for the clinic. Best to face this head-on, tell Lily that what had happened was a huge mistake and hope they could move past it.

  Surely, he thought, she was as eager as he was to put this behind them. That kiss had been inappropriate as hell…and too damn good. That last part hummed through his mind, then dug deep inside him, rekindling fires he’d thought had been extinguished. Scowling slightly, he paused in the parking lot and stared at the building ahead of him.

  His daughter had poured everything she had into the clinic his mother had started. His family was behind this all the way. There was enough trouble at the moment without him allowing his wants and needs to cloud the situation further.

  He swept his jacket back and shoved both hands into the pockets of his slacks. Rocking slightly on his heels, he told himself that all he had to do was go in, see Lily and apologize. Tell her he’d appreciate it if they could go back to the way they’d been before he’d taken their relationship to a new level.

  Simple.

  So why wasn’t he going inside?

  “Because if you see her again, you’ll kiss her again,” he said aloud. Disgusted with himself, Ron sighed and decided to take a walk instead. Skirting the building, he went around the side to the open field between the clinic and the research facility.

  A ball game was in progress.

  The field wasn’t a marked baseball diamond, but kids had never needed structure to find a way to play a game. The teams were spread out in their positions and, caught up for a moment, Ron simply stood in the shade of the building and watched the pitcher wind up.

  The boy hurled a beauty at home plate and the batter, a short kid in a red sweatshirt and black jeans, swung and missed, sending blond hair swinging in a wide arc.

  Ron frowned, took a step forward and stopped again. That batter looked suspiciously familiar.

  Another pitch.

  Another swing and a miss.

  The kids in the field booed and cat-called and the kids waiting their turn at bat shouted encouragement. Ron’s gaze locked on the batter. Even from a distance, he knew that blond “kid” in the red sweatshirt was Lily.

  Amazed, he watched as she stepped out of the batter box, swung the bat a couple of times, then lifted it and pointed brazenly toward left field. He smiled to himself as she approached the plate again.

  What kind of woman was this?

  A wild pitch soared over her head and Ron heard her laughter as it floated to him on the breeze. He leaned one shoulder against the stone wall, crossed his feet at the ankles and let his mind wander while his gaze locked on Lily.

  Another pitch flew at her. She swung. A solid smack and the ball blew high over the shortstop’s head and hurtled into the valley between left field and center. Both fielders watched it go, each of them expecting the other to go after it. When they realized their mistake, both boys started running, but it was too late.

  Ron’s gaze flicked back to Lily just as she rounded first base and headed to second. Her blond hair flew out behind her and her legs pumped furiously as, laughing, she kept running.

  He grinned, watching her and when she pulled up at third, he wanted to cheer like her teammates, who were high-fiving each other on the sidelines. Lily jumped up and down on third base and teased the third baseman by tugging his hat down over his eyes.

  When the next batter slammed a single into right, Lily raced home triumphant and did a happy victory two-step all the way to the makeshift dugout.

  Ron couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was so different from everything he kept expecting her to be. There didn’t seem to be an ounce of New England society girl in her. She kept surprising him at every turn, and maybe, he thought, that was part of her appeal. She was so different from…Vi, he admitted with a pang of guilt that seemed to stab at him.

  Violet would no more have joined a kid’s pickup baseball game than she would have marched naked down Main Street. Vi had always been a perfect lady. Quiet, gentle, unassuming. She’d drifted through his life with soft sighs and kind words. They’d never argued. Never had reason to. She’d been his best friend and the only woman he’d ever loved.

  And now, to be feeling something so sharp, so hungry, for a woman her complete opposite…he felt as though a part of him was trying to say that Violet hadn’t been enough. But that was wrong. He’d loved his wife. Loved their years together and the quiet, contented nights they’d spent in each other’s company.

  “Now,” he told himself in an angry mutter. Now was the time to talk to Lily. When memories of Vi were close enough that he could almost touch her. When he’d allowed himself to remember all that she’d been, all that they’d had together. When he was his strongest.

  Ron started for the sidelines, walking a wide path around right field as the next batter took his place at home plate. He kept his gaze locked on the short blond in the red sweatshirt and hurried his steps until he was nearly running across the grassy field.

  Laughing with the kids, Lily was bent over, brushing dirt from the legs of her
jeans and tipping her head up into the dying sunlight. The silver rings at her ears caught the light and sparkled like diamonds. As he got closer, Ron heard the music in her laughter and felt his steps—and his resolve—falter slightly.

  Then she straightened, turned around and saw him. He watched as her smile faded, then deliberately brightened again. She tipped her chin up like a boxer challenging her opponent and waited for him to approach.

  “You play baseball?” he blurted, wondering why he hadn’t just said what he’d walked over here to say.

  “I play, I run, I dance.” She shrugged and reached up to push both hands through her hair, scraping it back from her face.

  “Instead of working?”

  “Who’re you, the hall monitor?” she grumbled, then turned her head to watch as the batter smashed a ball into right field. “Way to go, Kevin!” she yelled before turning back to glare up at Ron. “Seriously. Did Mari make you my parole officer without telling me?”

  “No—”

  “Because if she did, we’re going to have to have a talk.” She poked him in the chest with her index finger for emphasis. “I didn’t sign on to this job thinking I’d have a baby-sitter. I’m a big girl now, you know. I haven’t needed anyone looking over my shoulder for a long time and I don’t intend to have it keep happening.”

  The fire in her eyes started a whole different kind of burning inside him. He hadn’t expected it, even knowing what kind of reaction she’d had on him in the past. Every time this jolt of attraction shot through him, it caught him as unaware as it had the first time.

  Damn, this woman was like no one he’d ever known.

  “That’s not what I was—”

  She cut him off again. “You turn up at my office…then here…with a scowl on your face and accusation in your voice and I don’t think I deserve it.”

  “I never said you—”

  She stopped him cold one more time, and all Ron could do was stare down at her. His reasons for walking over here disappeared, and he was caught, flat-footed and mute, just watching her. There was a smudge of dirt on her nose, a spark in her eyes, and her silver earrings danced with every movement of her head.

  She was…fascinating.

  Everything about her appealed to him—and he didn’t know what the hell to do about it.

  “I didn’t ask you for anything, did I?” Her voice was low enough that the kids just out of hearing didn’t pay the slightest attention to them. “I didn’t call weeping and wailing because you ran away after giving me that great, absolutely toe-curling kiss—”

  He opened his mouth.

  “—which, by the way, was only half-good.”

  “You just said it was toe curling.”

  She sniffed. “I was trying to make you feel better.”

  “Thanks.” He smiled.

  “Don’t mention it. Really.” She shook her head again, and the wind caught her hair, tumbling it in a blond mass all around her head. “I mean, it was just a kiss, Ron. No big deal. I have, believe it or not, been kissed before—all without hunting down said kisser with a shotgun and forcing him to make an honest woman of me.”

  “You could do it, couldn’t you?”

  “What?” Her brows lowered, her eyes narrowed and she tilted her head to one side.

  “Hunt a man down.”

  “If I had to.”

  “You’d never have to,” he murmured, not really sure he’d actually said the words aloud until he saw the surprise flicker in her eyes. Then he blew out a breath, caught her elbow in a firm grip and drew her farther away from the kids clustered near them.

  “What’s going on, Ron?” She pulled her arm free and looked up at him.

  Ron rubbed the tips of his fingers together as if he could still feel her within his grasp. Then a moment later, stuffed his empty hand into his pants pocket. “I came over here to tell you that kiss was a mistake.”

  “Fine.” She backed up. “I had already figured that out—but now you’ve told me.”

  “Do you never shut up?”

  “Almost never.”

  “Try it now.”

  “Why should I?”

  “Because I asked you to, damn it.” That came out a little gruffer than he’d planned, but it was too late to call it back. Good thing, too, since she nodded abruptly, folded her arms across her chest and dramatically closed her lips tight.

  Now that he had the floor, so to speak, he wasn’t at all sure what he should say. Oh, he knew what he wanted to say. And he knew what common sense insisted he say. Instead, he went another way entirely.

  “I want to kiss you again.”

  “Huh?”

  “You said you’d shut up.”

  “Right.” Those lips folded on top of each other again, but her eyes were speaking volumes.

  “Maybe it was a mistake. Probably. Okay, yeah, it was.” He pushed one hand through his hair, then reached out for her before letting his hand fall to his side again. “Doesn’t seem to matter. I want you. And I’m not sure what I’m gonna do about that.”

  She snorted a laugh, silence forgotten. “Don’t you think I’ll have a little something to say about that.”

  “Nope.”

  Blond eyebrows lifted. “Really.”

  “Lily,” he said, taking a step closer until all that separated them was the fabric of their clothing, “if I want you, I’ll have you.”

  She sucked in a small gasp of air and swallowed heavily. “Think pretty highly of yourself, don’t you?”

  A sharp, cold breeze kicked up, lifting her hair and carrying her scent to him until Ron could have sworn he was drowning in it. He closed his eyes, opened them again and looked down at her.

  “Thinking pretty highly of that kiss.”

  “And?” she said on a whisper.

  “And—” he lifted one hand to touch her cheek “—I’m thinking we’d only get better with practice.”

  Chapter Six

  “Hey, Ms. Cunningham!”

  Lily turned her head and looked at her neighbor boy, Kevin Hanks, standing in the infield, shielding his eyes with the flat of his hand. The boy’s jeans were ripped out at the knees and his T-shirt was covered with dirt and grass stains. “Yes?”

  “We’re callin’ the game on account of Mike’s gotta get home, and it’s his ball.”

  Lily laughed shortly. How much simpler life was when you were a child. The rules were clearly defined. The world made sense. And nothing was more complicated than finding another ball.

  “All right, then,” she called back. “Be careful going home.”

  “Yes ma’am,” Kevin answered, already turning to sprint and catch up to his friends.

  “And don’t forget about my lawn,” Lily yelled after him, since Kevin had promised to mow it the next day, and she didn’t want him forgetting. Much longer and her front yard would qualify as a meadow.

  He waved one hand in the air to show her he’d heard, but he didn’t look back.

  Then she was alone with the man who’d been avoiding her for days. Strange, she’d gone over this very meeting in her mind dozens of times. She’d imagined it happening in a hundred different ways. She’d pictured him bumping into her at the clinic—or even stopping by her house. She’d thought of any number of pithy, brilliant, even cutting, remarks she could make when the opportunity presented itself.

  But now that she was faced with the situation she’d been expecting, she felt almost at a loss. Because it wasn’t going at all the way she’d assumed it would.

  Oh, Ron was still crabby and irritating as only he could be. But he was also saying things she wasn’t sure how to respond to. And now that the boys were gone and they were alone again, Lily had no idea what was coming next.

  So naturally, she went on the offensive. Simply put, it was the best way she knew to defend herself—and her heart.

  “Let me get this straight,” she blurted, when she turned around and looked up at him again. “You came here to tell me that the kiss was a mista
ke, but you think we’d do better with practice.”

  “Essentially.”

  She frowned at him. “That makes no sense at all.”

  “Sure it does.”

  “In which universe?” Good. Irritation was much better than attraction. Safer. Cleaner. Less complicated.

  He reached for her, but Lily took a quick step back, keeping out of his reach. It would be much easier to keep her defenses up if he wasn’t touching her.

  Ron blew out an exasperated breath, but nodded. “Okay. We’ll do this your way.”

  “This is not my way.”

  “Right. Anyway,” he went on quickly, to keep her from speaking again. “The kiss was great. A mistake, but great. And even though repeating it would be a bigger mistake, I’ve no doubt it would be even better the second time.”

  Lily’s head swam with new images. His mouth on hers. His hands sweeping up and down her spine. His broad, muscular chest pressed against her. Her blood spurted and danced in her veins, made her brain fuzzy and the edges of her vision swim.

  She pushed those thoughts aside, though, and forced herself to pay attention to the moment at hand.

  “Even if it would, you’re not interested, remember?” she said tightly.

  “That’s the problem,” he admitted, shoving both hands through his hair in a gesture of frustration. “I am interested.”

  That little dance of anticipation and eagerness swept through her again. It seemed logic and common sense had little to do with what her body was feeling. What her heart wanted to believe.

  Long minutes ticked past with neither of them speaking. Neither of them broaching the silence that hung between them as heavily as the humid, afternoon air. Another stray, cool breeze drifted past, ruffled Lily’s hair, then moved along, disappearing into the trees lining the back of the clinic.

  Ron stared off into the distance, as if looking for answers he couldn’t find. But at last he turned his gaze back to Lily and stared into her eyes with the same searching strength as before and said, “I loved my wife.”

  Lily blinked up at him. Whatever she’d been expecting to hear from him, it hadn’t been that. “Of course you did.”